Second Star to the Right - 1. Chapter 1

The guys said they would draw the line when Jamie started showing up to their practices. Blake didn’t like the way the implied threat lingered in the ensuing silence. It made his chest ache, and something about the implied violence set him on edge and made him nervous.

“Don't be stupid,” said Blake, looking around the dugout. “It's not like he's doing any harm.”

Max scowled at him. “Sticking up for the fudgepacker, Blake. Do you want to skip practice to go hang with your boyfriend?”

“Fuck off,” said Jason, throwing off his pitcher’s glove. He stood shoulder to shoulder with Blake. “You fight my brother, you fight me. He's right anyway. Kid's minding his business. Shut your mouth, and let's finish practice. I don't want to hear coach bitch.”

Practice resumed, and that settled the matter. Jason was the team captain, and his word was law on the baseball field. Honestly, no one wanted to be kicked off the Varsity team for fighting when players were being scouted for college teams. Athletic scholarships were the only shot some of them had to leave Odessa. This was Texas, and baseball always came second to football, bottom line. So they had to be that much better to be counted.

“Thanks,” Blake muttered under his breath.

Jason bumped his shoulder against Blake’s, tugging back on his glove. “Whatever. Not like I ain't ever got your back, bro.”

It was true. As twins, they were pretty close, though they weren’t identical. Jason was more outgoing, but Blake was kinder. Jason lived in the now while Blake thought about tomorrow. Blake wasn’t as popular as Jason and he was okay with that.

“Look, he's drawing in that notebook again,” Jason noticed.

Blake looked into the bleachers near the top seats. Jamie sat in the stands with his head down as he worked, tugging absently at one of his blond curls. Blake’s breath caught at the sight. His fingers itched as he rubbed their tips against the sides of his pants. Jamie peeked up at him with cornflower-blue eyes. It was Blake who looked away first, tugging his cap down over his brow as he blushed.

Jamie had transferred into their high school in the middle of sophomore year. He only hung around girls because the guys called him names behind his back—cocksucker, fag, homo—and sometimes it was because of his scarves (“long, thin tentacles of contagious homo,” as Max called them); other times it was his soft English accent that might have been charming if he were older, but only made the boys think he was girly. Blake liked all these things about him, though he would never admit it.

-

At seventeen, Blake wasn’t the tallest boy in school, but he was a good inch past six feet tall. His brother, however, was an inch taller. So it was easy for them to spot Jamie standing in the crowded movie theater’s atrium with Zoe Landry, the school’s resident art freak. Jamie stared at him, and when Blake bravely met his gaze, the smaller boy only smiled before calmly turning back to Zoe, laughing as he whispered something in her ear. Blake suddenly longed for that adorable smile to return, with an aching kind of desire.

“The stalkers here,” said Jason.

Blake wished he wouldn’t call Jamie that. It was senior year and it had been almost two years since the first time Jamie had appeared at their baseball practice. He showed up sporadically, always in the same seat writing in his ever-present notebook, and then he started showing up at the games. Last season, he attended every home game, sitting in the crowd and standing out with his curls tamed under a bright yellow knit cap. Only Jamie would wear something so loud instead of a normal baseball cap.

Blake glared at him. “The guys give him too much crap about it as is.”

“Hey now, Blake-bear,” Jason replied, holding up his hands in surrender. “No need to go off. I was just saying.”

He offered a sheepish smile. “Sorry, bro.”

Blake knew his brother didn’t mean any harm by it. Of course, he didn’t. It wasn’t in Jason’s nature to be cruel—oblivious, maybe, but never mean. Blake had to get himself under control. He had a bad habit of wanting to help people smaller than himself. Jamie—with his bright smile, captivating eyes, and stubborn curls—brought out all his protective instincts. He just wanted to bury his face in Jamie’s curly hair, hug him tight, and shield him from the cruelty of the world. Blake wanted to be the one who always protected him.

Blake tore his eyes away and moved determinedly toward the concession line. He was not going to spend the entire night gawking. His fascination with Jamie was starting to become noticeable. More often than not, when he stared, he found Jamie returning his look.

Sometimes he dreamed that he and Jamie actually talked and laughed over coffee, sharing moments so sweet that the intimacy of it all made his breath catch. The downside was that Blake had never said two words to Jamie. Oh, he had wanted to. That was a given. But whenever he tried at school, it felt as if the hallways closed in on him, filled with judging whispers, and he thought, this is enough to kill me right here—then he chickened out like a fucking asshole.

“Have you decided on a school yet?”

“I’m thinking about UT. I think it’ll be best for financial aid,” said Blake. He grinned at his twin. “Not all of us were lucky enough to get full rides.”

Jason rolled his eyes but smiled at the quiet pride in Blake’s words. Jason’s full athletic scholarship to UNT hadn’t been a surprise, since he had been the starting pitcher since JV and the coaches had been telling him he was a shoo-in—but not having to worry about the pressure of scouts anymore was exhilarating.

They ordered a ton of candy and two cokes from the girl at the register. Jason turned to him while she put the order together. “Just wait, man. You'll be missing this face when you're all lonely and cold in your dorm.”

Blake’s lips quirked. “Don't tease me like that. I'm counting the days.”

“Dick,” Jason laughed, nudging him with his shoulder. He flicked his eyes over to Zoe and Jamie, who lounged on a bench talking amicably. “Five bucks says Zoe Landry majors in Art.”

They walked away from the line holding their food. Blake rolled his eyes. “Suckers bet. Even the janitor knows that girl bleeds paint.”

Jason chuckled as he led them through the lobby to their theater. “What about, English?”

Blake couldn’t help but sigh. It was like Jason could never call Jamie by his name. If it wasn’t Stalker, it was Creeper or English. He shrugged, forcing his voice not to betray that he was bothered by the nickname.

“I don’t know. He’s always writing in that notebook, so maybe English. But he’s really interested in science—he’s always answering questions in Anatomy, and he was awesome in Chem. I think he has the periodic table memorized.”

Jason looked at him with surprise and something unreadable just beneath his expression. “Cool,” he said finally.

Blake bit his lip hard. He cursed himself silently, feeling like an idiot and wishing he could just close his eyes and disappear.

They took their seats and watched the movie in silence. His fingers curled tightly into his hands and later, when he got home, he found four little bleeding crescents on his skin.

-

Two days later it was Blake’s birthday—specifically, both his and Jason’s birthday. He had dyed his hair jet black at the beginning of the school year, a change from his red-tinted brown strands. Maybe that year people wouldn’t call him Jason when wishing him a happy birthday, which wasn’t asking for much, since they weren’t even identical twins.

Whatever awkward moment they had the night before vanished like it never happened. Jason was back to his smiley self, talking Blake’s ear off nonstop about what their parents might give them for their eighteenth birthday. Jason was hoping for a new car, and Blake told him not to hold his breath on that one.

Blake slung his bag over his shoulder and made his way to the cafeteria. He accepted another happy birthday from a classmate and felt genuinely happy. This would be his last “high school birthday” before college the next year—and that was when the fun would really start and he could finally be himself, truly and wholly.

He passed through the quad and stopped. Sitting on the railing of the handicap ramp were Jamie and a sophomore he had seen a few times before. With that red hair and freckles, the boy could only be Sam Olsen’s brother. They leaned close together to watch a video on Jamie’s iPhone. Blake wished they would go away. Olsen said something, and Jamie laughed so hard that his cheeks turned red and his blue eyes shone bright with happiness. Blake narrowed his eyes at Olsen, who sat too close with a hand lingering on Jamie’s shoulder, and he felt sick to his stomach as intense, violent rage rose within him.

Blake was surprised at the hurt he felt. He was jealous. At that moment, he wanted to trade places with Olsen and be the one to make Jamie smile. If there ever was a birthday wish to make, that would be it.

When he turned his face into a blank expression, Jamie looked up from the phone. He didn’t know why he had stopped moving, but Blake stood frozen as Jamie stared shyly at him through his eyelashes. And for the first time that day, every good feeling that had bubbled within him gave him the courage to lift his hand and wave. Jamie looked shocked, and Blake’s heart hammered in his chest before, like a sunrise, a smile spread across his cheeks—glowy and bright. It made his heart soar as if that smile reached all the way from the tips of his fingers down to the soles of his feet.

He walked on air all the way to the cafeteria. He didn’t notice if he garnered funny looks—honestly, he didn’t care. It was only noon, and it was shaping up to be the best birthday ever. Blindly, he picked his lunch from the line and paid. With a tray piled high with food, he sat at a table his brother and friends had already claimed.

Thankfully, even though they were teammates with Max, he wasn’t sitting with them. Max was so into his girlfriend that wherever she went, he was on her heels—and right now she was holding court with the Debutantes at a table outside.

Jason squinted at him. “Did you get laid?”

“Virgin card intact,” Blake pointed at himself. “Can’t I be happy it’s my birthday? Being 18 and all that—I get to vote, buy cigarettes and porn.”

If anything, Jason studied him harder at that innocent tone. “Ri-ight. You’ll tell me eventually. You can’t keep a secret for shit.”

“Wrong twin,” Blake clarified. “You definitely just described yourself. Do you want my notes for Pre-Calculus or not?”

Sure enough, Jason descended on the stack of papers like a lion on a wounded gazelle. He was pulling a C in the class and desperately trying to master derivatives so he could finish the semester with a B average. Blake was glad to see that Olsen had crawled back under whatever rock he lived under because Jamie was eating lunch with only Zoe and two other girls. There was a slight chill outside, and Blake couldn’t help but notice that today Jamie’s scarf matched his eyes.

School passed in a blur. Blake spent the last four hours with his head firmly in the clouds. He probably looked like a moron, but the teachers didn’t bother him. It was his birthday, after all. When the bell rang he was one of the first out the door. The hallway teemed with kids. Blake shouldered his way to his locker. He dropped his books inside and then paused. Underneath his Spanish textbook, a glint of metal caught his eye.

“What,” he muttered under his breath as he tugged on a random piece of string.

It wasn’t metal at all—it was a black shoelace, through which looped a silver ring with Roman numerals etched into its surface, one through twelve. Blake fingered the ring and was surprised when its band moved, spinning around an inner track like a miniature wheel. He studied the ring with a frown.

He looked through the crowd, but no one stood out. It wasn’t as if he expected someone to raise their hand or flash a sign. Blake wondered who the ring’s owner might be. Was it a gift? He felt heat rising to his cheeks. There was no note attached, but as he slipped the string around his neck with the ring resting against his pecs, he knew exactly whom he wanted it from.

Blake scanned the area, hoping to spot a head of curly blond hair. There was no sign of the British boy. He held the ring in his hand, warmth surging through him. Please.

“Hey, cool ring,” said Jason as he came up beside him. “Where’d you get it?”

For some reason, Blake didn’t want to tell his brother it was a gift. Right then, that secret was something he held tightly.

He shrugged off the question. “Bought it yesterday. Looked sweet.”

Jason nodded. “Ready to go?”

“You driving?” Blake asked as they walked to the exit.

The keys to their shared beat-up truck dangled around Jason’s index finger. “Driver picks the music. No complaining this time. You know the rules.”

Happy and still feeling carefree, Blake grinned almost blindingly. “Yeah. Bitch, bitch, bitch.”

That night, close to bedtime, he spent an inappropriate amount of time stalking Jamie’s Instagram page. It wasn’t set to private like most people’s, and the profile picture was enough to do him in. Jamie looked particularly adorable in a black vest and a powder-blue tie. He grinned at the camera, and the background resembled a wedding reception. Blake scrolled through his pictures until he came upon Jamie’s latest post of the sunset and the caption was: I’m happy because you’re happy.

Zoe Landry commented: ❤️ you, xxx.
Markus Olsen commented: after all this time?
Jamie Beckett commented: always.
Zoe Landry commented: lol u and Ron Weasley would reference HP on the sly.
Markus Olsen commented: zoe i think i despise you. redhead hater.

Blake pondered what it could mean. It was an inside joke that meant nothing without context. He slapped his forehead. He did have a reference. Blake opened Google in his browser and typed in two sentences: “After all this time. Always.” Over eighty-six million hits appeared. He clicked on one of those answer sites. Sure enough, it was a Harry Potter quote. He read it quickly, then slowly a second time, and finally a third time, taking in the words and making sense of them. The gist was about loving someone for a long time through anything—and for always.

Did that mean Jamie was into someone? Blake bit his lip. He was putting too much thought into it. It was a joke among friends, and he was analyzing it like prime evidence in a murder case. He needed to get a grip.

The next day, Jamie was absent from school. Then he missed the following day as well. And when game day arrived, there was still no sign of Jamie. Blake looked near the top bleachers at Jamie’s preferred spot overlooking center field. He tugged at his uniform shirt, gazing like a hawk for a flash of a yellow beanie and blue eyes.

“What are you doing?” asked Jason as he tied his laces and adjusted his knee socks. “You look... crazy. Sup?”

Blake sighed, staring once more at the bleachers before giving up in defeat. He stared at his glove with a dejected frown. “Nothing.”

Jason looked at him, worried. “You want to talk about it?”

Blake shook his head because he didn’t even have a word for what he felt. His equilibrium felt off, as if the world were tilted and he couldn’t find balance. He was used to Jamie watching his ball games—a reassuring presence whenever he looked up. Right then, Blake needed to find focus in those blue eyes. While his presence irritated the other guys, Blake found only warm pleasure.

Sam Olsen came up and clapped Blake on the shoulder. “Game's almost 'bout to start. Get your game face on, dude.”

Jason moved toward the mound. He waved to their parents in the stands, and his red-and-black uniform looked ridiculously bright under the field lights. Blake turned to his twin as Jason called out, “Have a good game!”

Blake offered a sickly smile in return.

The game turned into a personal disaster. As the starting catcher, Blake was usually one of the team’s best players. Yet he felt like a freshman at his first game with how badly he was screwing up. He dropped an easy catch, sealing the other team’s chance at a run, and he even earned his first-ever fielding error. Blake felt as if he were about to collapse into a hole and fall straight to Hades. Meanwhile, Jason seemed on the verge of having a stroke.

They benched him, and he wasn’t even upset about it. He sat in the dugout as his team pulled together, wrangling a win only because Jason was awesome and saved the game. His teammates gave him sympathetic glances on their way out of the locker room. Even Max offered a weak thumbs-up. Jason said not a word while changing, inwardly seething and waiting for privacy.

When the door closed, leaving the twins alone, Coach Anderson and Peters remained in their office finishing up some paperwork while the locker room lay empty. Blake stared at the laces of his Nikes.

“I don't even know where to start,” Jason began quietly, his soft tone making Blake wince. “I think what hurts the most is I'm your twin, and you can't even be honest with me.”

Blake’s head snapped up. “What are you talking about?”

Jason didn’t face him; he stared at his hands. “You don’t think I’ve never noticed that when you talk about girls you’re always following my lead. I notice a lot of things, Blake.”

Blake couldn’t breathe. His vision went black in spots as he blinked hard, holding his stomach and sucking in air. A hand settled on his shoulder and then on his back, rubbing soothing circles into his skin. Jason sat next to him on the bench. His eyes were wet, and he smiled crookedly.

“Hey, it's alright now, okay?” he whispered. “I'm not mad. Jesus, man. You're my twin. Please. Believe me, Blake, I love you.”

Relief soothed the building ache like a balm, and Blake nodded weakly while wiping away stray tears. “How long?”

Jason shrugged. “A while now. Tonight, I knew for sure.” He ran a hand through his brown hair. “You want to know why I never called Jamie by his name? Yeah, I know you've wondered. I told you, man, I'm observant. You're kind of oblivious, but that's okay. Have you ever noticed that you guys have had all the same science classes, the same lunch period—hell, didn’t you notice him and that art freak girl change movie tickets to ours a couple of days ago?”

Blake’s breath stuttered in his chest, as something light and airy floated in his stomach. “What?”

“They were in line for that Potter movie, Blake. Then they changed to our movie when we were going into the theater. I saw them at the help desk exchanging tickets,” Jason said slowly as if he were a child. “They were sitting in the row behind us.”

“These last few years, I honestly didn't like Jamie,” Jason admitted, turning his head away. “It’s not that he’s not tough or manly or whatever—I just knew, you know.” Blake didn’t know. Jason paused for a moment, choosing his words carefully. “Even then, I knew he loved you. It’s in his eyes. He’s always smiling, but then he’d look at you—and it changes as if he were sad like you wouldn’t ever get it, like you’d never feel what he felt. Every time at practice, he’d always look at you and only you.”

Blake reached out and held Jason’s wrist. When he opened his mouth, nothing came out. His stomach churned, filling with a gooey warmth that made him feel as if he were about to float away and never come back down.

“You can't be serious?” Blake demanded, emotion squeezing his throat tight.

Jason nodded and then met his eyes. “And you're in love with him, too.”

Blake shook his head, ready to deny it. After all, he had never really talked to Jamie. Jamie was someone precious and almost holy—far too soft for the world he lived in. He was like an angel, and Blake wanted no one to touch him. Yet Blake wanted to. He longed to wrap his arms around him, touch him, hold him, protect him—and be the one he loved forever.

“I love Jamie,” Blake said for the first time to himself, his voice tinged with wonder. “I'm in love with him.”

“Yes, Pinocchio, you're a real boy,” Jason teased.

Blake snorted and hugged Jason with one arm. “Guess that makes you the Blue Fairy.”

“If I can borrow your wings,” Jason winked. “Now if you hadn't gone all sad clown earlier and bit my head off when I tried to talk to you in the dugout, you'd know that I talked to Sam Olsen's kid brother, Markus, right before the game. Your boy's actually at home—his dog is sick, and his parents are out of town, so he's been playing nurse.”

Blake stood speechless.

Jason rolled his eyes, waving away the rest of his words. “Go get your man, bro.”

He swooped forward, wrapping Jason in a tight hug. They laughed together, releasing the buildup of emotions and long-kept secrets, and they were good again. Blake grabbed his jacket as Jason pushed him out the door. He didn’t take the truck—Jamie lived close to the school, only two blocks away. The streetlights were on as Blake walked down Jupiter Drive. The house was a two-story structure in the middle of a row of homes. He had driven past it every day, reflexively turning his head to watch.

Walking up to the porch and standing there sent his heart into an erratic fit. He took several deep breaths before pressing the doorbell, convinced he would faint at any moment, crack his head, and fall into a coma.

The door opened, and Blake’s breath caught. Jamie stood in the doorway wearing blue athletic shorts and a white hoodie partially zipped, with no shirt revealing his pale, smooth skin. Wide blue eyes shone with stark confusion, and his face bore the mark of surprise.

“Um. Hello,” Jamie stuttered softly.

“You didn't come to my game. I was so worried—I played like crap, and—” Blake cut himself off mid-babble, his voice breaking as he coughed in embarrassment. He blushed furiously.

Jamie’s cheeks turned pink as a bashful grin spread across his face. “Do you want to come in, Blake?”

Blake nodded, feeling his heart pounding between his ears. It felt as if this were a make-or-break moment. Jamie closed the door behind him, and immediately to the left was the living room. The TV was on, displaying a paused image; a blanket was slung over the couch, and a golden retriever puppy slept contentedly on the rug.

“Aww, I heard the little guy was sick,” Blake remarked.

Jamie looked pleasantly surprised. “Apollo’s had better days. He's feeling better now, I think. Sleep has done him wonders,” he said in his lilting accent, which brought a smile to Blake’s face. Just hearing him talk calmed his nerves. Yet Blake’s expression remained uncertain as silence fell over the room. He tried to smile but felt terrified and small. If he were rejected, if Jason were wrong, it would undo him.

Jamie dragged his bare foot against the carpet, suddenly looking shy. “You noticed that I wasn't at your game. You were worried?”

Skin tingling, Blake nodded. “Of course, yeah. I looked for you at school, too.” He pulled at the string around his neck, withdrawing the ring from his shirt so it rested over his chest. He needed to know if he was right if this feeling was real. “Thank you. For this.”

It was a hunch that paid off. Jamie gave him another bashful smile, looking half fearful. He peered at Blake through his lashes and said so softly that Blake had to strain to hear, “Do you like it?”

“I love it,” Blake replied.

The DVD player’s freeze frame exceeded its time limit, and the picture suddenly jumped forward as the movie resumed. Peter Pan pointed to the night sky and advised the Darling children to fly “to the second star to the right and straight on till morning,” so they would find Neverland.

“It’s my favorite movie,” Jamie admitted, adorably embarrassed.

“I want to know everything about you,” Blake blurted out suddenly. It was practically word vomit, but he meant it. Dear God, did he mean it.

Jamie smiled, though his smile trembled. “You know—you must have to—sometimes I think my heart will explode; it’s too much.”

“Yeah, I mean, I do know— that you have feelings for me,” Blake said, breathing deeply and feeling his chest heave. He was lucky he wasn’t fair of skin, or his entire face would have been red from blushing. His heart felt so heavy. And when he confessed with heartfelt feeling, “And I feel the same.”

He took a step forward. Jamie stepped forward too. For a moment, neither knew whether to hug or what to do. Their feet jostled together, and they tumbled onto the couch, landing chest to chest across the cushions.

Jamie let out a soft moan as he buried his head in the curve of Blake’s neck. “I think about you all the time. I can remember my first time at school—the kids teased me, but you told them to stop. You looked so mean, and then you smiled at me. I thought... you're perfect.”

Blake laughed softly. Hearing Jamie’s story made him sound like a valiant knight. He had been so mad that kids picked on a new kid from another country—it sickened him. Blake buried his face in Jamie’s curls and breathed deeply, nuzzling, feeling delightfully content. He kissed Jamie’s forehead gently, his lips curling into a timid smile against his skin.

Jamie looked at Blake with blue eyes that shone even brighter up close. They were hypnotic. “Can I kiss you?” Blake whispered, trembling.

Nodding silently, Jamie leaned forward as Blake moved. Their lips pressed together in a soft kiss that felt like the first of many. Blake licked into Jamie’s mouth, turning their slow, gentle kiss into something amazing. Jamie straddled him, fitting perfectly into Blake’s lap. Soft, mewing noises of want emanated from him, and Blake felt as though he could listen forever.

“I've waited for this. I wanted it so badly. I wished,” Jamie said, sounding as if he were about to cry. Tears fell down his cheeks, but he smiled. “I can't help it.”

Blake pulled him fully into his arms. He kissed Jamie’s cheeks, gently licking away the tears and drawing a light laugh from him. That sound made Blake laugh too, while deep within a voice chanted, I love you, I love you, I love you—mine, please, forever, stay.

“I should tell you,” Blake leaned forward, whispering into Jamie’s ear, “I love you.”

Jamie grinned at him as if he had known it to be true all along. He pressed his face into Blake’s, not kissing him but nuzzling against him, and smiled so widely that it seemed to hurt. Blake beamed back, knowing that from that moment on, this was it.

“I love you, too. Did I not tell you that yet?” Jamie pouted, looking distressed that Blake might not already know.

Blake smiled sweetly. “You didn’t have to. I can see it so clearly now.”

Beyond them, the movie played on. Peter Pan flew through the sky, and the Lost Boys played their games beneath him. On the couch they whispered to each other until the movie stopped, the credits rolled, and the screen went black. They kept telling each other “I love you,” staggered by the disbelief that this was real—but it was, and they were together. When they fell asleep with their foreheads pressed together, Blake dreamed of textbooks and studying in a college dorm. The sheets were UT orange, and Jamie lay on them reading a physics book. He beckoned Blake over, who jumped on top of him, rolling them around until they were laughing, and Blake knew that Jamie would always be worth it all.

[end.]